


Shades of Grey

by teaandcharcoal



Series: Trans!Dave [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality, M/M, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Xeno, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-01-08 12:27:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaandcharcoal/pseuds/teaandcharcoal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all starts with a simple post-coital question: “So, Karkat, you still have that crush on John?”<br/>As if a relationship between /two/ guys wasn't messy enough. Especially when one's trans, one's a troll, and the last still isn't sure what his sexuality is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote my first trans!dave fic with just Karkat, and then my second one had John in it. I figured I'd best explain how to get from point a to point b.  
> With a little three-way sex along the way.

“So, Karkat, you still have that crush on John?”

You startle when Dave asks that. Your post-coital conversations tend towards the unusual, sure, but rarely this early and  _never_ this serious. Your forehead is still slick with sweat, and you still feel echoes of his bulge inside of you. Fuck, his bulge is probably still  _warm_ in the drawer, and he suddenly asks about infidelity?

Oh shit, it’s one of those nights again, isn’t it? Post-orgasm freak outs are the most dangerous. They’re not like the normal panic attacks, and even less like the sex-time panic attacks. They bring a quiet kind of self-loathing, the kind that won’t be drowned out for days.

You wrap your arms around his middle – neutral territory, nothing to trigger an even worse reaction – and pull him close to you. He’s on his back and you’re on your side so it’s an awkward hug. He rolls so he’s looking away, but that just means you can tighten your grip and make him your little spoon.

“Dave, I love  _you._ You know that.”

“Yeah, but that’s not answering the question.”

Evasive maneuver seventeen unsuccessful. “When I say love I mean it, Dave. It’s not pity. I know you still check out at the word ‘quadrant.’ I wouldn’t fucking be with you if I didn’t get that.”

“I know. Just like I know you’re actually not that into the quadrant thing either. But chill, this isn’t a jealousy thing. I’m not accusing you of shit. It’s kind of… the other way around.”

“Dave, you didn’t.”

“No! Hell no. Give me some credit, man. It’s just that when all this shit ended and everyone paired off he got left in the dust. The poor guy’s lonely, and he’s always been kind of special to me. You can say no and nothing’ll happen. I don’t wanna fuck up what we already have going.”

You sigh, “Yes.”

“Really?”

“To the still liking him thing. He’s attractive but I don’t hate him because, like we talked about before, my hate gland is fucked up. I’m not sure about this, though. If we have sex, even if you’re there too, I might end up having mating fondness for both of you and it would be messy.”

“Actually, that’s closer to what I was thinking of.”

“I thought you didn’t do poly?”

“I don’t do people who have other people on the side. This wouldn’t be like that. This would be all three of us.”

“Is that…” you peer over his shoulder. “Is that a thing you people do?”

He looks up at you. “Sometimes.”

“Doesn’t John not like men?”

“Nah.”

“But he told me-“

“He told you something a long time ago. When just about all he knew of life was white bread, suburbia, and a fairly conservative dad. He didn’t learn that there was anything other than straight or gay until he was seventeen.”

“So what is he, then?”

“Eh… both and neither. It’s kinda complicated. Still not really sure. Then again, the last time we talked about it neither was he.”

“Alright, so what are we gonna do?”

“No idea.”

“Dave!”

“I really didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You roll your eyes, “Idiot. What did you expect me to do?”

“A triple summersault followed by a back flip straight into top-blowing city and have a disturbing combination of kittens and cows.”

“Is your opinion of me really that shitty?”

“Nah. Just bracing myself because after the last real heart-to-heart we had in bed you burst into tears and I walked around with pink hair for days.”

“God, I hate you.”

“Love you too, Karkles.”

“Ugh. Get your bulge back out of the drawer and choke on it.”

“Sure, whatever.”

You let go of him and roll away with a huff.

A moment later his hands are around your chest and he’s pressing up against you. “I mean it, though. You’re the best, Karkat.” He kisses your ear softly.

“Shut the fuck up and go to sleep,” you say, but there’s no bite left in your tone. You caress his hand gently and he puts his face right in the crook of your neck.

You hope this won’t be as bad of an idea as it sounds. 


	2. Chapter 2

It’s a nice day out. The sun is bright in the sky, it’s just warm enough to be outside without sweating or shivering, and there’s a pleasant breeze that wasn’t even your doing. So, of course, they asked you to work in the ectolab instead of exploring with Jake. Nobody cares about the buddy system anymore.

At least they’re leaving the windows open. And it’s kinda nice to spend some time with Dave and Karkat. You’ve missed those guys. Ever since they started going out it’s been hard. As though trying to figure out this new universe thing wasn’t hard enough, you have to feel like a goddamn third wheel with your best two buds. God you’d missed them.

With the three of you and Kanaya working together you manage to make some serious progress in breeding birds (Dave was pretty obviously excited about it. His pokerface was failing pretty badly). By lunchtime you have finished few different kinds of wrens and sparrows (some of them have poison talons, because Karkat swears that was common on Alternia). You decide to try to cook something for them, since you were mostly there for help with aerodynamics and you’re actually not too bad in the kitchen (especially since you’re just making grilled cheese and tomato soup).

You have the sandwiches sizzling on the griddle when you hear someone approaching. When you turn you see Dave standing nonchalantly in the doorway.   

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” you reply. “What’s up? You guys need me again?”

“Nah. I had a question for you.”

“Sure.”

“You wanna go out?”

“Go out where?”

He laughs. “I don’t mean like that. I mean go  _out.”_

“Did something happen between you and Karkat?”

“Nope.”

You furrow your brow, “Dave, that’s not like you.”

“I know. We’re trying something new here.”

“We?” You ask.

“Goddammit, Dave!” Karkat comes down the hall, “I thought you were going to wait for me!”

“I was, but then you spent five minutes talking to Kanaya about the new rainbow drinker novel she’s trying to write.”

“Guys, what’s going on here?”

“Like I said,” Dave replies with a shrug, “We’re trying something new and asking you out.”

“Can… can you do that?”

“Why the fuck not?” Karkat asks. “We both like you and it’s our relationship. So if you’re interested in us…”

“I’m- can I think about it?” you ask. “I wasn’t really expecting this.”

“Yeah, sure,” Dave says. “Take your time. Offer’s open until we say it isn’t.”

“And we probably won’t,” Karkat adds.

Dave actually manages to do a cool sort of gesturey thing and then the two of them leave you staring at the air and wondering what kind of doomed timeline you’ve ended up in. When you start working again it’s hard to keep your eyes off of them. You’ve thought about them before, during those long lonely years when you were questioning everything about yourself.

You can’t deny that you’re curious what their bodies look like. And they’re your best friends. Where are you supposed to draw the line? You do love them, but you love everyone in your little party. This would be so much easier if you felt romantic or even physical attraction.

What would it be like to kiss them? Their lips are both chapped as fuck, and their breath would be hot and damp and uncomfortable on your face. But would the closeness be worth it?  You like the friendly snuggles you’ve shared with them. It’s so warm, so safe. And they’ve felt so good pressed against you for brief hugs. They’re both so solid, Dave with his soft weight and Karkat with sinewy muscle. It would be fun to hold them for a little longer.

But they’ll want sex, won’t they? You tell yourself you’d be able to do it. You jerk off sometimes, after all. And if you look at it from the “more intimate snuggling” angle it should be fine. How much will that help, though, once everyone’s clothes hit the floor?

You can imagine them doing it. You picture it as you type out new gene sequences to alter the feathers just a little bit. It should be dirty, but it’s really not. It’s like poetry or dance when they move together. Their bodies are so different. You can sort of extrapolate from your contact and the way their clothes sit on their frames, but you’re probably a little off in the execution (especially on Karkat. Trolls are still weird to you). They’ve kissed in front of you, so you just add a little more passion, a little more urgency as white skin rubs against gray. You watch their faces in your mind’s eye. They’re both so passionate in every day life, you wonder what it’s like when they lose themselves to each other and to their love. They kiss, they lick, they gasp, they even exchange a few nips. You see matching red eyes in profile as they stare into each other’s souls.

Then you try to step in. You try to reach out and touch. Your hands make contact with their shoulders. They’re warm and slick with sweat, but as soon as you make contact they melt away. Of course it does; you can never put yourself in sexual situations.

Instead you change the image. The three of you lie together on the roof of their house. You’re between them, looking up at the stars. Then you feel fingers threading through yours. You don’t turn away from the sky, but you squeeze back.

It’s warm.

In the real world you’re smiling.

“Had fun with the hummingbirds?” Karkat asks you at the end of the day.

“It’s nice to do something new, you know?”  

Dave gives you a sidelong look with a hint of a smile.

Kanaya is more organized than the rest of you. She’s already gathered her things. She leaves, shutting the door behind her with a click.

You swallow. “Okay.”

“Okay what?” Karkat asks.

“Let’s… let’s try this. Let’s try us.”

“Really? I didn’t think you’d go for it.”

 “Haha, yes! You owe me a blowjob!”

You decide to ignore Dave. “Sure, why not? Just once to see if it works.” Dave hasn’t said anything else, so you look over to him. “As long as if it ends up not really working we can go back to being friends with no hurt feelings.” 

Dave smiles for real and slaps you on the back. “We’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight.” And with that he’s gone.

“Don’t look so fucking worried,” Karkat says. “There are three-wheel devices too, you know.”

“Thanks.”

Karkat brushes his fingers over your hand. “Seriously, man, relax. It’s nothing to lose your head about.”

“I know.”

“Right. He gives you a quick smile and then heads out, following his boyfriend.

You sit down and start losing your head about it. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm so late! Between midterms and having a boyfriend now I haven't had as much time to write about the boys. Thanks to the anon on tumblr who helped me get out of my funk. You know who you are.

“Oh my fucking god, Dave, will you stop messing up and combing your hair over and over?”

“There is a delicate balance between looking like you really don’t care and looking like you _really_ don’t care, okay Karkles?”

“It’s _John._ He’s known you for, what, eight years now? Nine? I feel like his first impression is pretty well made.”

“Yeah, well at least I’m not putting on makeup.”

“A: that took thirty seconds. B: there’s nothing wrong with wanting to look a little better than usual for a date. C: you’re being culturally insensitive as fuck. You _know_ all trolls used cosmetics on Alternia, and it’s not like I went the fuck of the deep end.”

“Dude, you’re wearing eyeliner.”

“There is _nothing_ wrong with eyeliner!”

“It’s hella gay.”

“Dave, I don’t know if you realize this, but we had our bulges in each other’s nooks last night. _We’re_ hella gay.”

“Well, okay, you have a point there.”

You smooth down your shirt and give Dave a superior sort of look. He rolls his eyes and goes back to fussing with his hair. You might be playing your cool a little better for once but you’re nervous too and he knows it. The difference is that you get yours out by arguing whereas he gets his out by preening. You already know you look as good as you’re ever going to, and there’s no arguing with hair as curly as yours so you’ve given up at this point.

Of course, now you’re also staring in the mirror and wondering what John will think. You suddenly can’t remember if he’s ever seen you without your big fluffy sweater on. You tell yourself that he must have over the sweeps (the humans may have made you change your vernacular to match the new timekeeping in this universe, but they can’t touch inside your head), but you can’t seem to remember a specific time.

Well, he will now if nothing else. You’re wearing a nice button down shirt, black with your sign embroidered on the pocket, and a bright blue tie. _His_ blue. It doesn’t quite look right against the black, but Kanaya has an eye for color and she wouldn’t allow you to fuck up by wearing the wrong blue (she did, after all, find the perfect red shirt for you to wear on your first date with Dave). Dave more or less matches, but instead of actually buttoning his shirt it hangs open to show off the bright blue tee he’s wearing underneath.

Looking down you realize he’s wearing gray shoes, much more obvious than your red socks and undershirt. You suddenly feel better about this whole thing. Even if this date is a total flop, he’s still your mate-rail-mesis-boyfriend-thing and it won’t change that. Then you glance at the clock.

“Holy shit, we’re late!”

“Nah.”

“Dave, it is 8:35.”

“Going back half an hour isn’t exactly gonna doom the timeline.”

“But shouldn’t we have noticed?”

“We did it while you were in the bathroom. We still have two minutes, 12 seconds, and 6 milliseconds starting now.”

“Shit that’s specific.”

“That’s how we keep dead Daves from piling up.”

“Right.”

He lowers his hands and turns to you.

“Okay, I think I’m good. How do I look?”

“Haven’t you been standing in the mirror long enough to figure that out?”

“I’m asking for a second opinion.”

“You’re fine, Dave.”

“Do I… do I look normal enough?”

You pause, lift a hand and brush back his bangs. You were kind of expecting him to wince, but he doesn’t. This is too serious, you suppose. “Dave, you look great. You are great. You’re manly as fuck and don’t forget it.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Just don’t try comparing yourself to John, because we’re all still astounded by his and Jake’s miraculous transformations from wriggler-faced children to fur-beasts.”

“True that.”

He gets onto his tiptoes just as you lean down to kiss him and you end up smacking your nose right into his teeth. You decide to cut your losses and just go.

Dave being Dave, you get to John’s hive at exactly 8. When he opens the door you’re happy to see he’s dressed up too. The colors aren’t quite the right shade, Dave’s red a little too rusty and your gray a little too black, but you’re not too mad because it means he must have done it all by himself.  

“Hey guys!” he says, all smiles and bright eyes.

His teeth are big and crooked and oh so white. You can pretty much see the old-fashioned glossy blur around him. You want to swoon, but Dave puts his hand around your waist and keeps you grounded.

“Hey yourself,” Dave says.

“So where are we heading?” John asks.

“No idea,” You reply, “Apparently Dave has a plan.”

“That I do. Hold onto your asses.”

You recognize the subtle shift, that little twinge in your gut that comes with time travel. John, apparently does not. He doesn’t even seem to notice the fact that his hive is gone.

“Okay,” Dave says.

“What?” John asks.

“Just look up.”

You do as Dave says and your eyes go wide. The sky dances, colors whirling as the cosmos rearrange themselves.

“Where are we?” You ask.

“Same spot, a few minutes before we entered the new universe.” Dave sits on the ground and stares at the sky. “When the croak happens there’s like a factory default, but when we get our prize everything rearranges itself for us. Just watch.”

John plops down next to him and you soon follow. None of you say a thing as you watch. Slowly, patterns begin to emerge. The wild waves that had rocked the heavens settle. The bright pinks, greens, purples, and oranges begin to fade to blue. Intentionality begins to take hold, and you see the very beginnings of your singular white moon and the eight constellations that mark this world’s seasons. Far-off galaxies swirl into shape. Rings gather on some of the nearby planets.

You lie there for what must be hours. Even after the sky settles it’s just so clear and beautiful that none of you want to take your eyes off of it. Eventually the three of you end up laying down, you and John both have your heads on Dave’s chest and he’s gently petting the both of you.

Words begin to creep back in. Conversations never seem to be frivolous in the dark and this is no exception.

“What’s gonna happen to religion if we’re still around?” John asks.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” you admit. “I was never really into that kind of shit.”

“It’s different for you, though,” Dave says. “You were told your whole life you would bring about the end of the world.”

“True,” you say. “They weren’t exactly wrong, though.”

“What if people want answers from us?” John asks, “What if they need purpose or motivation? We don’t know anything.”

“We can just tell them not to be dicks and find their own meaning in life,” Dave says. “I just hope they don’t all try to emulate us, or we’ll have one fucked up hedonistic society.”

“Oh come on, we’re not _that_ bad,” John says.

“You used your windy powers to TP our hive,” You reply, “Three times.”

“Yeah, but I helped you clean up.”

You shift just a little so your heads bump together and he laughs. God he’s got a great laugh, and unlike Dave he doesn’t try to hide it.

“Still, though,” he says, “I really do have to wonder about the future sometimes.”

“We’re not popping ahead. Oh my god does it take the fun out of things.”

“I never really thought I’d have enough of a future to worry about,” you admit. “I mean, I was always so sure that I’d get culled the day my irises started filling in. And then I thought the game would kill me for sure. Now I’m staring eternity in the face and I still can’t really believe it.”

John looks at you sympathetically and you just turn away. You feel a hand on one of your horns, too small and familiar to be John’s.

You begin to hear animals. Familiar insects and owls and, of course, frogs. John asks about life on Alternia and you tell him. You tell him every detail, all of your bloody and wonderful memories, the exquisite cruelty of your race and how you kind of miss it even after all they did to you.

He asks about what they taught you, what they didn’t teach you. Eventually he thinks to ask you more about your ancestor, and you’re honest. If he wants to be on an even field with Dave he should probably know. So you tell him about the dreams you had since you pupated, about the troll who told you about your destiny, who hinted at the game to come, who gave you the weapons and the knowledge you needed to survive. You’re pretty sure that’s what they meant by ‘knight of blood,’ arming yourself with what bonds you could muster. You tell him that’s why you hated Kankri so much, he was a mockery of the troll who’d saved your ass since the day you’d hatched.

“Do you think you’d like to live on his Alternia?” To your surprise, it’s not John but Dave who asks.

You look up at him, and he’s tilted his head down to look at you.

“A world that can still be kinda violent, but without everything being decided by blood and where adults still got to stay on-planet,” he clarifies.

You turn your eyes back to the sky. “Kinda,” you admit. “Not being culled while still being a badass would be kinda nice.”

“You’re already pretty badass, I think,” John says.

You’re not blushing. Who says you’re blushing?

“You ever miss him?” John asks after a moment.

“Not really. I still dream about him sometimes.”

“That must be nice.”

“Yeah. I mean, it happens less and less often as I get older. I guess I just don’t need him as much.”

“Ah.”

“It’s okay,” Dave says. “You can still miss your dad.” He pauses for a minute. “I mean, I miss Bro.”

“I thought you were too cool for that,” John says jokingly.

“Are you crazy?” You ask, “Dave is about as cool as LOHAC.”

“What Karkat’s clearly alluding to is my undeniable hotness.”

“Sure, Dave.”

“Seriously, though. He was like the coolest guy ever. How could I not miss him? Besides, he still owes me like eight years worth of testosterone and surgery.”

John laughs again, but you don’t miss the way he grabs Dave’s hand and squeezes it softly.

“Could they have picked a more fucked up bunch people to rule a universe?” You ask.

“Yeah,” John says without a hint of doubt, “I feel like for all we’ve seen we turned out pretty okay.”

“Do you really believe that?” You ask.

“I do.”

You actually roll onto your belly so you can get a better look at him. Pinks and oranges are beginning to dot the eastern horizon, and the light reflects beautifully on John’s dark skin. You feel the sudden urge to kiss him, but it’s like there’s an invisible wall between you. So instead you content yourself with watching the sunrise and what it does to him. Dave’s doing the same thing. You’ve stayed up all night with each other before, but with another person it’s a brand new experience. For his part, John just watches the sky as it changes with a far-off sort of content look on his face. Together you watch the first sunrise a second time.

“So,” Dave says, “what time do you want to get home?”

“Is it time to go already?” John asks.

“Yeah. Past us are going to go exploring soon.”

“Oh. Uh... can we keep it in real time? I feel like that’ll make it easier for me to keep track of.”

“Sure thing.”

Dave stands, making you and John get to your feet. This time the shift and the twinge go the other way and you’re back on John’s doorstep, though the light hasn’t changed.

“So, uh,” John says, “I guess that’s it?”

“Yep. Have fun?” Dave asks. His calm tone probably isn’t even fooling John.

“I did. So… wanna do this again sometime?”

“I’m in,” Dave says.

“I suppose I can put up with you one more night,” you say about as convincingly as Dave.

John’s looking back and forth between the two of you uncertainly.

“What’s up?” You ask.

“I- Well, a kiss is pretty standard for the first date, but I don’t know who to…”

You push Dave forward. “Go on, asshole. It was your idea. Besides, it’ll be funny to see you  stretch.”

Dave smiles and rolls his eyes. Normally he goes up on his tiptoes for you, but he doesn’t move other than to tip his head up. Instead John leans down and, wow, they’re being chaste as fuck so why is it so hot? They pull apart after about a second and a half and John motions for you to come over.

He’s different from Dave. His lips are thicker and softer. You already knew that he smelled different, but with your nose practically against his skin it’s even more obvious. And now he smells a little like you and Dave, which makes it even sweeter. His nose is bigger than Dave’s so you have to angle your head a little differently and the shape of it means that you feel more of his breath on your face, but even that’s attractive for some reason.

You pull away and feel the same gut reaction to him you did when you were six. Holy hell do you want him in one of your quadrants. You’re pretty sure there’s plenty of room for him in this big wonky one you share with Dave.

“Well,” he says, “I’ll see you guys later, then.”

“Yeah, later.”

“See you around,” you say.

John turns around to reopen the door. Suddenly your eyes can’t seem to leave his butt. It’s pretty flat, but still kinda nice. And those pants fit him really well. Really, really, well… He enters his hive, closing the door behind him.

“Dave.”

“Yeah?”

“When we get home you’re fucking the shit out of me.”

“I was just about to say the same thing.”

You’re really glad you already have one partner to get your sexual frustrations out on.


	4. Chapter 4

You’re barely in the door when you’re shoving Dave against it and kissing him. Neither of you hold back. He breathes hard in your ear and the kiss is sloppy and wet enough that you feel spit getting onto your cheeks and chin and you’re not even sure whose it is. You shift your body over to get a little bit of friction on Dave’s hip, but it’s hard because he’s tipped both of them up so he can get your thigh between his legs.

His packer’s slipped a little bit out of place and now it’s getting in his way. You just laugh at him as he makes little frustrated noises because he’s got a solid inch of rubber between his crotch and your body. It’s hard to tell, but from the one eye you can see it looks like he’s glaring at you over his shades. His tongue retracts slightly and you follow it, only for him to bite.

It’s not hard enough to make you bleed or even to really hurt, but you see black. Your ears tip downwards and your purr turns into a growl. Without thinking you take his lower lip in your mouth and bite back.

“Ah! Fuck!”

You pull back in concern. That was on the fine line between a good shout and a bad one. He touches his fingers to his lips and they come away with a hint of red. He looks at them for a moment. You open your mouth to apologize, but then he grins.

“You’re gonna fucking pay for that.”

He shoves you away and then grabs you by the hair before you can react. You snarl at him but he’s holding on too tightly to attempt to escape. He pulls your head to the side and undoes your tie to get at your neck. You feel his flat teeth on your skin and groan. Your knees feel weak as he leaves his mark on you. It doesn’t help that he’s rubbing the base of your horn with his thumb.

Any proper kismesis would have left you for getting caught so quickly. Luckily, Dave isn’t a proper kismesis. He’s an unnatural blur of everything and, fuck it all, you love this. When he pulls away you know there’s a big red mark forming.

“You gonna be a good little bitch now?” he asks.

“Yes,” you reply even though you both know it’s probably not true.

“Good.” He lets go of your hair. “Bedroom. Now.”

You really should tackle him then. It would be easy when his guard was down to pin him, to get his clothes off, and to fuck him right then and there. But then he wouldn’t have his proper bulge and without that you can’t even do blackrom the right way. So instead you follow like a barkbeast. As soon as you get close to the bed he’s suddenly behind you. His hands deftly undo your pants and the buttons on your shirt.

“Oh man, can’t wait to see you on my dick,” he whispers in your ear.

You snarl, but then his hands are off your waist and one’s around your neck while the other’s holding your hair. Your pants fall to the ground.

“Come on, Karkles. Do you  _really_ need another mark to remind you who’s topping tonight? I can put this one higher if you like, so every time you look in the mirror you remember you lost to a squishy, pathetic human half a foot shorter than you.”

Your voice dims to a growl.

“’S what I thought. Get on the bed and take your underwear off.”

You growl but do so. You reach for your undershirt, but he stops you. “Don’t. I like that color on you. Brings out your pretty eyes. Now stay.”

It’s pathetic to sit there kneeling, wearing your partner’s color and your flushed sheath bared for the world to see. But you don’t move. Instead you watch as he drops his own clothes. He doesn’t offer to do the same favor you paid him and takes his socks off too so that he’s naked except for his binder. At least you can take some comfort in the fact that he still has a lovely pair of bruises the exact shape of your hands on his hips. You get a really good look at then when he breezes past you to get to the bedside table so he can switch out his smaller, softer bulge for a nice hard one.

Shit, he’s getting the really big one out. It doesn’t fit nicely into your nook even with a lot of preparation. For the sake of your internal organs, you pray that he just picked it for symbolic purposes and/or the fact that it’s got the little attachment that slips under the harness to stimulate his real bulge, permanently sheathed as it may be. 

It looks odd where it hangs between his legs, thick and stiff and a red too bright to be natural. But you like the way that he stands when he has it out, a little taller, a little prouder. He straddles your thighs and grabs your chin.

“Say you’re mine,” he growls.

“Just fucking get it over with.”

He lets you go and pulls away. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? You don’t sound very eager.”

You roll your eyes. “Ever heard of role play?”

“Right, okay.” His expression softens.

“Fuck, Dave, you’re almost as thick as Egbert.”

“Ow, that hurts. As long as you think I’m almost as sexy as him too.”

“Don’t worry, you’re every bit as hot.” You put your hands on his cheeks and kiss him slowly and sweetly.

When the two of you break apart Dave laughs. “Even mentioning the dork ruins kinky time, doesn’t it?”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“Right.” He kisses the side of your neck. “You’re just saying that because it was hate at first sight.”

“Mmm… maybe.”

One of his hands rubs your thigh. “So I think I might have accidentally killed that other mood. Wanna make a new one?”

“Well that would be the logical fucking choice of action.”

You pet his sides from the hem of his binder down to his hips. He groans softly and eases you backward onto the bed. When you spread your legs he takes a moment to stare. You always feel kind of awkward because it’s the one time you’re never able to see through his poker-face. You want to hide, to close your legs and cover yourself but you don’t.

After a moment he smiles just a little bit and lies on your chest. You remove his shades and set them on the bedside table. Now that he’s close enough to see you, you want to see him too.  He rolls his hips and his bulge presses down against your sheath. With a whine you swing right open.

Your bulge juts out to wrap around his.

“Jeez, give me a chance to turn it on.”

“You should have started sooner.”

“Yeah, well… Oh, hey guys.”

Your bulge, of course, has decided to pay with his fingers instead. You try to stop it, but the damn thing just never does what you want it to. Dave starts laughing.

“Oh my fucking God, stop petting it!”

“Sure, as soon as you stop purring.”

Somehow one of the tendrils of your bulge manages to nudge the dial on Dave’s bulge, putting it on low.

“Ah, shit-! Karkat!”

“Hnn- Now you gonna stop petting?”

“Yeah. So I can do… this.” He slips his hand a little further back and slips two fingers into your nook.

“Ah! John!”

“Oh, should I be jealous? Rather have Mr. Long-Fingers down here?”

“What? Oh shit. Look, it happens!”

“If I say his name when I come you can’t be pissed now.”

“Where you- un- were you planning on it?”

“Oh, that’s a new noise. I like that one. What else you holding back, Karkles?”

“Barely concealed rage.”

His laugh makes his bulge twitch oddly, but hell if you don’t like it. You wrap your legs around his hips and he begins to rut down against you.

“Fuck, Dave!”

“’S what I’m doin’.”

“At least I fucking said the right name this time.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He bites your shoulder and you keen.

You have no fucking idea what color you’re supposed to be right now. His bulge and his teeth say black, but his fingers and his vocalizations say red, and his eyes are saying _pale_ of all things. He resettles his weight a little bit so that he can reach up and start touching your horns. It’s just affectionate, not sexual or even sensual. Your bloodpusher is racing, pumping around an variable cocktail of contradicting hormones.

It’s hard to breathe. Your diaphragm doesn’t want to work with you, possibly because your thinkpan is too busy trying to sort everything out. You will yourself to just accept it, to not worry about the quadrants and just enjoy the nearly overwhelming sensations Dave’s giving you.

“Let me please you.” Oh god, could you have said something more third-rate porno? He’s going to give you shit.

But instead he just says, “Oh, babe, you already are.”

“Fuck, you’d better get off to this.”

“Oh I _am!”_

Your fine motor control is too unreliable to attempt touching his nook, so instead you kind of end up messily petting his hair. He’s saying something, but when he’s coming apart his accent gets thick and he starts talking _way_ too fast and he’s directing most of his words into your rumble spheres anyway so your shirt absorbs most of the sound. Not that you care much. Your bulge is wrapping as tightly as it can around his. You feel the genetic material welling up inside of you, pressure mounting steadily. Your nook’s not fairing any better. You’ve pulled his fingers down to their base but it’s still not enough.

Why the fuck didn’t you make him grab the bulge he can actually fuck you with?

You realize not long thereafter because if he did there’s no way in hell you wouldn’t have come already. Because holy _shit._

Dave inhales sharply and starts to shudder. He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut. As goofy as it is, you still love his orgasm face. He grips you tightly, and on your horn it hurts slightly because his nails are digging into sensitive skin. With his other hand he’s pressing up against your seedflap and it takes all you have not to spill all over the bed.

“Dave! Bucket!” You shout.

He looks up at you, eyes bleary, but it only takes him a split second to react. First he pulls away from you. His movement is jarring and somewhat painful, which helps you keep your material in. He helps you onto your knees and the bucket slips between your thighs. One arm wraps around your waist and the other reaches between your legs. Your bulge wraps happily around his wrist and his fingers press back up and in.

“It’s okay,” he whispers in your ear. “You can come.”

You try, you really do, but for some reason the gates won’t open. Still, the pressure mounts and it starts to get painful.

“I can’t.” You squeak out.

“Ssh, yes you can. Come on, babe. I know you’ve got so much in you. Just relax.”

You whine, you rut against him, but you just won’t… Then he kisses you. For a moment you’re taken aback, but then you relax into the kiss. You hear the sound of your genetic material hitting the pail before you start to feel the relief. But when you do it hits you all at once.

Your legs shake, you lose your breath. If Dave wasn’t holding you you would have collapsed by now. But he is, and you start to feel as though your internal organs have all liquefied and are streaming out of your bulge. He’s murmuring in your ear, but you neither know nor care what is actually coming out of his mouth other than the soft, sweet tone.

When you finish, he peels off your sweat-soaked shirt and carefully eases you back down onto the bed. You lie there dazed for a minute, just watching. He gets out of bed, straightens up, and stretches. Fucking humans and their fucking ability to get up right after sex. He kisses your forehead and then he’s gone. You hear water running and you know he’s rinsing out the bucket and probably wiping down his toys and his actual genitals. You remember, amused, how angry he was the time you grabbed him before he could run off and he started whining about how he felt slimy and gross. Well, so do you but you’re not complaining.

Eventually he comes back, washcloth in hand. You purr as he runs it over your thighs and your still-sensitive sheath. When he’s satisfied with his handiwork, he tosses the cloth into the laundry bin and slides back into bed next to you. Now you can take him and make him your little spoon.

“So,” he says, “What did you think?”

“You’re fucking amazing.”

“I meant about the date, not the sex.”

“You’re fucking amazing.”

“Do you think John liked it?”

“Dave, I don’t know if you realize this, but John is worse at keeping his feelings to himself than I am.”

“I guess…”

“Hey, don’t worry about it.”

“But it’s _John._ And I just… I really want him to like us.”

“So do I. But no matter what happens…” You kiss the back of his neck. “You still have me.”

He caresses the hand you’ve got on his middle. “Thanks, man. You’re pretty cool, you know that, right?”

“I love you too.”

For a moment you let yourself just lie there and listen to his breathing and feel his belly expand and contract with each breath. It’s nice. Just like feeling the beating of his heart and the heat of his skin, sometimes you just like the reminder that the man you love is alive and well.

“Sorry I’m so shitty at pillow talk today,” He says. “I’m tired.”

“It’s fine. I’m on the same flotation device.”

That’s the last thing you say before you wake up the next morning to the smell of eggs, sausages, and fresh coffee.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look who's not dead!

You sleep harder that night than you have in a long, long time. When you wake up you could swear you’ve slept for months and months. Your head is a blur to the point where it takes you a few seconds to recognize your own room. For a moment you’re expecting Dave and Karkat to still be there, and your tiny empty bed is a massive letdown when you realize they’re not.

The house seems too quiet now, even with the newly ectobiologized birds singing outside. After getting dressed, you trudge down the stairs and pour yourself a big bowl of cereal, hoping you’ll wake up properly soon. It’s a slow morning, and by the time you’re done eating your cereal is complete mush. Maybe you ought to suggest trying to make coffee plants so your options aren’t drink sludge or be sleepy all morning.

Or maybe you should just get a straight drip of caffeine.

You’re so slow this morning that you don’t realize until you’re washing your bowl that you have no idea what you’re supposed to be doing at this point. There’s no exploring to be done today and you _hate_ being stuck at home. Do you talk to them? Do you go get advice? If so, from whom? What would result in the least teasing? God, you think to yourself, you’re such a virgin. If only there was a single household in this new inbred world that wasn’t up to the chimney in snark!

But before you freak out about it, there’s a knock on the door and thank fucking god. You try really hard not to rush to answer just in case some people are still under the misguided impression that you’re not a total dork. They’re probably not, but who knows? And you’re kind of glad you tried to act smooth because it’s Dave and Karkat.

For a moment you freak out, and then you remember that your hair is always a mess anyway and pajamas have been a legitimate fashion choice for years.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey,” Dave replies.

You stare at each other for a moment, but it’s kinda hard because your eyes keep going between Dave and Karkat.

“Oh my fucking Condense! Will you two stop with your weird human awkward staring?” Of course, it would probably have been more forceful if he wasn’t blushing so hard.

You jump a little bit. “Oh! Wanna come in?”

“Yeah, sure,” Dave replies.  

“Stop pretending to be cool, Strider. You practically begged me to come over!”

“Lies and slander. You were making the abused kitten face. I was expecting Sarah McLachlan to suddenly appear and tell me to donate every last boondollar to the ASPCA.”

Karkat gives him a very strange look, “You guys had an Alternian Society for Perpetual Causation of Agony?”

You laugh. “That’s probably closer to PETA.”

Dave cracks a smile at that.

“Praetorian Elite Threshecutioner Association?”

“Karkat, one of these days we need you to write down every single acronym you know for purposes of humorous interspecies shenanigans. But for now, come on, John, we ain’t getting any younger.”

“Well you’re not getting any older either,” you point out, stepping aside to let your two best bros into your house.

“So, uh… do you want something to drink, or…?”

“I’ve learned, John.” Dave pulls out a couple of bottles of apple juice and throws himself on your couch.

“Come on, I haven’t teased you about that kind of thing for years!”

“Yeah, well.”

He tosses a bottle to Karkat, who sits down stiffly in one of your chairs and teases the edge of his sleeve. When you look over at Dave you notice him playing with his juice cap. Just a little bit, almost unnoticeable. You’re actually kinda proud you caught it.

“So how’s stuff?” You ask, sitting down in the single free seat.

“Pretty good,” Dave says, “But we’d thought we’d show up because we don’t have real phones but you gotta call the next day.”

“Pfft, if you’re a total loser,” Karkat says.

“Remind me, how many more partners have I had than you?”

Karkat rolls his eyes, “What _ever.”_

“I donno,” you say, “I’m pretty sure you both have some pretty good points.”

They both turn towards you and glare a little bit, but you don’t find you mind. Actually, you can’t help but laugh and you wonder why you’d even been worried.

“So is it too early to ask for a second date?” you ask.

“Well after _that_ comment…” Karkat says.

“Come on, crabcatch, we don’t have anything planned for today.”

“Not even ectobiology?”

“Nah, we’re taking the day off same as you. I mean, even if we weren’t we’ve already hella jumpstarted the system. It might be fun to see what kind of weird shit evolves if we start like this.”

“You know, I never thought of that,” You say.

“So how about a movie?” Dave asks. “I know you two gotta go for that shit.”

“Sure,” Karkat replies, “then we just need to have a fight to the death over whether it’s going to be a stupid action movie, one of the most horrendous horror movies of all time, or an Alternian cinematic masterpiece showing the true meaning of pity - which is by far the most appropriate for this fucking situation.”

“Action movies are about love too! They’re just not so mushy about it!”

“And I love ironically amazing movies, but I have something else in mind.”

“You do?”

“Well, bro always said there’s one true test for love…”

“Oh _fuck_ no. Not this again.”

“Shoosh, you love it. Anyway, Lord of the Rings, extended edition.” He uncaptchalogues a massive stack of DVD boxes right onto your coffee table.

“Oh my God, Dave, you are such a nerd!” you laugh.

“Yeah, well.” He grabs the first box and rifles through it for a single disk. “Shit’s important.”

 He places it in the player and sits back on the couch, dragging you with him. Karkat follows shortly after, sitting on your other side. He pulls out some popcorn as well and sets it right in your lap so everyone can reach. Maybe, you think, this dating thing won’t be as stressful as you thought it would be.


	6. Chapter 6

You wake up sweaty, sticky, and covered in bodies. For a moment you panic, remembering blood and death and then you realize that both of them are warm, breathing, and immortal. Karkat and Dave have just both taken you as their mutual pillow. Your head is on Dave’s shoulder, its shape and softness perfectly fit for your head. He smells good, like soap and sweat with a little sweet something underneath. His hair is long enough to tickle your cheek with consistency soft and smooth like a cat’s.

On your other side Karkat mumbles and leans a little more heavily on you. You lift the hand that isn’t pinned against the back of the couch and scratch his head right between the horns. Dave has told you a few times how much he likes it, but you’ve never had the opportunity. He purrs and chitters without stirring. Haha, trolls are so weird. But you can’t bring yourself to think that in anything resembling a harsh way, not with the way those cute noises make the blood rise in your cheeks and your heart gain ambitions of conquering your entire chest cavity.

You turn your attention from Dave and nuzzle against Karkat. His skin has less give to it but is even smoother than Dave’s. His hair is likewise stiffer, and the curls are even wilder than usual. He smells almost spicy, and it’s honestly a little harsh on your nose but you like it. It kind of reminds you of when you were a kid and your dad would try to make Indian food. He did get better eventually, googling making up for forced assimilation, but for the first few years he always went way too heavy on the curry powder. Sometimes you do it too, just for nostalgia’s sake.

Great, now you’re hungry. You also have to pee. And you’re hot. And that arm crushed between Karkat’s bony back and the couch is starting to go a little numb.

But Dave and Karkat…

You at least grab the remote from the coffee table and use it to turn off the TV so you don’t have to hear the Return of the Kings menu play _again._ Then it becomes a little easier to hear the soft snoring emanating from both your boys. The dark heightens your senses, making even those tiny noises fill the room. You snuggle back down into Dave (let’s face it, he is _so_ the best pillow out of the three of you) and let yourself drift back to sleep.

The next time you open your eyes there’s light again, though now it’s peeking through the curtains.

Come on, they were supposed to be blackout for movie viewing purposes! Damn alchemiter, malfunctioning like that. Maybe you should just let Roxy make you some after all. She might not let you live it down, but maybe she will. It’s hard to tell.  

“Oh hey, you’re awake,” Karkat says.

“No shit. He’s been staring angrily at the curtains for like two minutes now,” Dave replies.

“Shut the fuck up, okay? His head is turned away from me, you douche noggin.”

They’ve both moved since the last time you were awake, which explains why you’re as comfortable as you are. No longer do you have any body parts pinned against the sofa, although your head is still on Dave’s shoulder. There’s also a blanket over you to keep you warm, since Dave and Karkat have spread out just a little bit, enough to sit up straight and comfortably hold mugs of caffeinated sludge.

“Ugh,” you say, straightening up. “How do you _drink_ that?”

“Good morning to you too,” Dave says.

“Seriously, though, it’s so gross!”

“Well excuse me,” Karkat says. “Not all of us got to spend three years on a gilded ship floating through a Technicolor dream world with all the grist we could handle and the ability to alchemize any fucking warm energy-giving beverages our greedy little blood-pushers desire.” He ends his sentence with a determined swig of said caffeinated sludge.

“Hey! That’s my Nic Cage mug! You’d better get all the sludge stains out of that.”

“A shitty fate for a shitty mug of a shitty actor,” Dave says with a smirk.

“Get the fuck out of my house, Strider.”

“Huh, maybe we were wrong, Karkat. Looks like Egbert already has a boyfriend.”

“So do you, but that’s not really acting as much of an obstacle, is it?”

“Ugh, can you two chill out until I finish my fucking coffee?” Karkat asks.

“Sure thing, Sir Chills-A-Lot,” you say with a laugh. “Anyway, I’m gonna go get something to eat. You two want anything?”

“Nah. We already raided your fridge. You don’t have shit, man. Better get on that.”

“Sure, sure.” You wave him off and leave.

After a quick stop at the bathroom to _finally_ pee, you find out that Dave’s right. You really don’t have anything. All you find that hasn’t probably gone bad is bread, jerky, and a little bit of mustard. That’ll do.

You return triumphant with your jerky and mustard sandwich. You are the culinary master. It is you.

However, Dave and Karkat are too busy folding up blankets to admire your masterpiece. When you flop back down on the couch to eat the two of them join you.

“So what now?” You ask.

Dave shrugs.

Karkat looks a little nervous, but he speaks anyway. “A-actually, we were thinking we’re gonna go. We have to get back to work tomorrow and we need some real fucking food.”

“Like chocolate. Seriously, man. Why don’t you have any fucking chocolate?” Dave adds.

“Oh, okay,” you say, trying to keep your voice upbeat. “That’s fair enough. I should work on that food situation. And I probably have to shower anyway.”

“If it makes you feel better I honestly can’t tell,” Karkat says. “You humans all smell more or less the same before and after a good absolution.”

“Be nice you racist douchelord,” Dave says. “Anyway, see you round. It’s been real.”

“Yeah.”

You hold your hand out for a fistbump, but he pulls you into a hug instead. Then he motions for you to come closer and he kisses you slowly, a bit more calmly than he did last night. Your face is almost unbearably hot when you pull away.

Karkat rolls his eyes and grabs your shirt. He’s even more forceful than he was before, but it’s the nervous sort of force that reeks of attempted machismo and exists to cover shaking hands. His teeth rasp your lips, but they’re not sharp enough to draw blood with that amount of force. You laugh and squeeze his hand lightly, which makes his eyes go a bit softer.

“Come on, Juliet,” Dave says.

Karkat sighs and rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’m not a human teenager about to off herself after dating someone for less than a week.”

Still he follows Dave out the door, sparing you one last glance before closing it behind him.

The click seems to echo throughout your now empty room. You just stretch and head upstairs to go shower.

The hot water is a miracle on your back. It works out cricks you didn’t even know you had. You’re getting too old to sleep on couches like that, eternal youth be damned. You groan softly in pleasure and bask in the warmth as the streams of water caress your skin.

You start to sing to yourself, but you can’t seem to think of anything but cheesy love songs. Not that it really matters, no one is going to hear you, and you _are_ in love. You think. Maybe. You mean, the descriptions of the physical reactions don’t all quite match, but you _think…_

Ugh, hashtag ace problems.

But still, you feel like it went well. Everyone was awake for most of the movie, after all. You think Karkat ended up falling asleep during the bit with the spider (if what Vriska said about her mom was true, giant spiders probably weren’t unusual enough to be truly suspenseful or terrifying for a troll). The last thing you personally remember was the eagles, and Dave outlasted you. And you’re reasonably certain he liked it because it was his idea in the first place. He talked through the whole thing and made a shitton of sarcastic comments, but you’re pretty sure he does that whenever he likes something. Karkat was pretending to be unimpressed, and he kept complaining it had nothing on Alternian adventure cinema. Then he spent like half of Two Towers listing his top five movies. Guh, why are the titles all so long? Still, he sat with rapt attention for some of the more dramatic parts. You think that’s a win?

 _But how do you feel?_ Something inside of you asks.

And honestly? Honestly you don’t know.

* * *

 

The next day you’re back to adventuring with Jake. You’ve missed it a lot, actually. You’ve missed flying, you’ve missed getting out and seeing stuff and doing things. Familiar hills roll out beneath you, the lush green of the forests, the more yellow hues of the planes, and the sudden sparkle of streams and rivers a sight you missed beyond belief when you sat behind a computer. Not a single cloud floats along with you, so when you roll on the back your sky is big and blue and endless.

“Go ahead.”

You startle enough to drop a couple of inches before turning to Jake. “Huh?”

“Well, it seems to me you’d find a jolly good bit of fun in becoming the breeze right now.”

“But you hate that.”

“It does make you more difficult to find, true, but I do suppose that if you helped push me in the right direction it might not be too bad.”

You grin. “Thanks, man.”

All it takes is one breath. You inhale as deeply as you can, and then you let everything out. With a little extra push you feel your body begin to slide out of itself with the air, and then you feel nothing in the corporeal sense.

In the non-corporeal sense, however, you feel everything. Words are made for a singular existence, you suppose, so communal non-existence doesn’t really translate well. You do not see or hear or smell, or even really think. You just kind of are.

But if you have to try to force a word onto it you’d probably pick peaceful maybe? You’re not _in_ your element you _are_ your element. You might not think, but you _know_ everything when you start diffusing through the atmosphere. You feel little pieces of the air, pieces of yourself, floating in and out of animals and plants, though the latter to a smaller extent because sometimes things stuck and then they’re not a part of you anymore.

Scouting certainly becomes easier with your particles anywhere and everywhere. You learn the valleys as you move through, the rivers as you dissolve down, and the hills as you are suddenly stopped and forced to turn.

But Jake doesn’t like it when you do this. He can’t keep up and he can tell where you are because he doesn’t understand that you’re not. The vibrations pass through you in a familiar pattern of your name and you decide to be again. Maybe someday you won’t. Maybe someday you’ll just drift, existing and not existing at once until the end of time.

But for now you still enjoy being human. Besides, you’ve got another date at the end of the week.

“Find anything interesting?” Jake asks as you pull yourself away from the ether.

You shake your head. “Same old same old. The forest ends not much further than we went last time. There are some cliffs and rock formations that might be fun.

“I thought you said there was nothing cool!”

“Sorry! When you’re the breeze everything seems normal.”

He facepalms.

“A-anyway, let’s get going.”

You make a little extra wind to help you along faster and it _is_ actually quite the sight. You’re pretty sure the rock is supposed to be sandstone, but instead of the tannish brown of Earth’s it’s various shades of bluish green with the occasional stripe of purple.

“Well lick my licorice,” Jake says.

“Same.”

Between the pillars of rock runs a river affectionately named Jasper’s Creek (it was named before you realized how fucking massive it grew to be not too far from your base.)

“How in goodness’ name did all this have time to form?” Jake asks.

“Sssh. Don’t question it. Just enjoy.”

He rolls his eyes, but who cares what he thinks? You fly down to the bank of Jasper’s Creek. Little fish near the shore dash away too quickly for you to tell if they’re a new species. Oh well. That’s more Roxy’s field than yours anyway. You reach down to inspect the riverbed, running your fingers through the cool water. The bottom is more sandy than mucky, and you lift up a handful of shimmering multi-colored sand.

“Fancy a swim, John?” Jake asks, landing beside you.

“You really should keep going,” you say, offering him a hand.

He sighs and accepts it. “I suppose you’re- WAAAAH!”

Hah hah, man his voice got so high pitched when he hit the water.

“Dammit, John! These are real pants!”

“You’ve got other clothes.”

“They’re not pants!”

“Pssh, we’ve all seen plenty of your legs at this point.”

You banish your godtier clothes down to your underwear and hop in with him,

The water is even more refreshing now that you’re submerged. It washes off sweat and dust you hadn’t noticed you’d collected. The river is wide and slow here, so you barely move as you relax on your back. Jake is back at the shore now and grumbling as he pulls off his sodden jeans and flopping them on the rock. Ker- _flap!_ It would take a lot of effort not laugh at him, so you don’t bother.

“Dammit, John, I’m going to kill you, and it will be completely just so no one will ever have to deal with your ridiculous pranks ever again!”

“Suuuure you will.”

He growls, tears off his shirt, and jumps on top of you, dragging you under. You wiggle your way out of his grip and pop back up to breathe. He resurfaces just a moment later and you splash him in the face. He splashes you back and laughs triumphantly.

Too bad he missed because he left his glasses on the shore! Wait. Dammit, you probably missed him for the same reason!

He seems to realize this about the same time you do, because he makes a face and then dives down. You’re confused until long fingers wrap around your ankle. You bend down and throw him upwards before paddling over into shallow water. He follows and the two of you have the longest splash fight of your life, possibly in all of Paradox Space. Eh, but probably not.

By the time you give up because you’re tired the sun is setting. It shimmers off the rocks, the river. The red, orange, and pinks of the sky contrasting and blending with the blue-greens of the rocks.

“So how are things with Dirk?” You dare to ask.

“Pretty good at the moment, actually,” he says. “We’re on the ‘on’ segment of the old ‘on again off again’.”

“That’s… good?”

“Eh, it’s more interesting than the alternative. Perhaps one day we’ll settle one way or the other, but until then I suppose I’ll take what I can get. There are worse companions and I’ve grown to enjoy the company.”

“So you still think it’ll turn out?”

“Well, it never hurts to hope. He is quite the sporting fellow.”

“I guess.”

“Speaking of that sort of thing, how are your boys?”

“Pretty good I think? It’s hard to tell. I don’t really have much to go off of at this point and I don’t really get it yet.”

“Oh, I know that feeling. I just hope one day you understand normal people better than me. Or maybe broken people better than Dirk.”

“Thanks. But…”

“But what?”

“Do you really think we’re broken?”

“Probably. I mean, to be fair we all are at this point. But we’re broken a little different from everyone else.”

“Or maybe we were just born this way. Just a little different.”

“Maybe. I suppose it’s all semantics, trying to sort out shades of gray.”

“Maybe.”

“But you know, John? If anyone could manage having that much love in your life it’s probably you.”

You smile. “Thanks.”

A moment passes. Cicadas buzz nearby and a few of the new birds fly overhead.

“I want to show them this.”

“What?” Jake asks.

“Dave and Karkat. I think maybe they’ll like it?”

“Possibly. It is quite beautiful. Good luck, my brother.”

You grin at him and burst into the air. He’s a big boy, he can find his way home. You’re too excited to wait.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (upd8ing fuckin finally)

 

Your back slams against the rock. Dave’s on you, hot and heavy and fucking _dripping,_ although that’s more because of his swim suit. John’s standing back for now, watching the two of you devour each other. The moon shimmers off of the water, Dave’s hair, and your skin as you attempt to grapple with him. But it would be foolish to notice such a thing. You’re black as this night right now and you’re going to-

John deftly steps between the two of you, running a hand down both of your faces, turning the vacillation pale-ashen. You’re kind of pissed and your bulge is _really_ pissed. You weren’t being _nearly_ destructive enough to warrant it now and-

He turns to you and slips one hand up under your top, slowly running it down, getting the lay of your chest in one drawn-out caress. His other hand joins in, focusing solely on your rumble spheres, pinching your pleasure nubs. That fucking kinky bastard.

He’ll fit right in.

Dave bites down on your shoulder and kisses and apology when he tastes blood. You pity-hate-love that boy.

“F-fuck, what is this? Ravish Karkat night?”

Dave’s eyes flick to John. “It could be.”

“Oh,” John says. “Uh, yeah, that’ll work.”

“What?” You Dave asks, “Rather we have an heir sandwich on knight bread?”

“No!” He says too quickly. “I mean, I’d rather have the attention on someone else if that’s okay.”

“Whatever you’d like,” you say breathlessly. “Just fucking kiss me.”

He does, and you melt a bright mushy red. Dave gives you one more quick grope to keep an edge on thing and then trembling dark hands reach for the strings on your suit. John fumbles once, but he gets it the second time and your trunks are unceremoniously pulled from you.

“Uh…”

“Ugh! Not this again!” You shout.

“Huh?”

“I may or may night have been the same at the start,” Dave says. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

His wide, callused fingers are familiar and your body softens under his knowing touch. He starts at your jaw, guiding your chin forward into a kiss. He fondly caresses your chest, your side, your belly before slipping between your legs to open you up.

Fuck, the water is frigid against the inside of your sheath, but your bulge is undeterred, reaching out and tangling with his fingers.

“Holy shit,” John says softly.

“Okay, so this is a bulge, aka basically his dick. And multi-tentacles aside it _is_ one organ. Fun to play with, squeeze, basically do whatever you want to do with.” He punctuates every point with a moan-drawing demonstration. “This guy _here…”_ He runs his hand along your primary tendril. “Is the most sensitive and where the jizz comes from.”

“Fuck! Dave!”

“And _this,”_ he continues without paying you the slightest bit of attention, “is a nook.”

“Fuck! Shit! I-“ You’re sure the water is a lot pinker than it was before.

“-Way more sensitive, but you’ve gotta be gentle. Don’t force it because it’ll hurt. And it’s not made to take a pounding like a human one is.”

He pulls away and you can’t decide whether to sigh with relief or whine in loss and you end up giving kind of a nasally whistle.

John giggles.

“Speaking of which,” Dave says in his I-am-actually-being-serious tone, “You’re also going to call mine a nook if you call it anything. Maybe a cunt if we start getting rough.”

John straightens up. “Right, got it! Nooks are what both of my boyfriends are equipped with. Anything else I should know?”

“Yeah. Chest is generally a no unless I specifically tell you yes for the day. Front is kind of iffy, but my backdoor’s pretty much always open.”

“Okay. Shit, this is really happening, isn’t it?”

“No shit, bulgemuch,” you say. “I’m only naked and pressed up against a fucking boulder here, wet and exposed and getting really fucking cold.”

“Shush, this is important,” Dave says.

“Then why’d you wait until the last minute?!”

“Because shut up. Anyway, you got any important notes, teach?”

“I, uh…” Is it just you or does he look a little pale? It’s probably the light. Actually, now you’re sure it is because he’s smiling again. “I don’t think so. I’m kind of new at this, but um… I guess for now just don’t call my dick something dumb because I might laugh.

Dave smiles, “Sure thing babe. Now get your yogurt-shooting manmeat rocket down here.”

John does in fact laugh and start kissing Dave. You watch, cold, lonely, but fucking spellbound. Their hands run up and down each other’s backs until Dave has a secure hold on John’s scrawny butt and John is basically dangling onto his neck. It really should be funny, since John’s about a foot taller than Dave and way more muscular, but it’s really not. These are your boys and they’re both just so, so beautiful.

You pull yourself away from the rock and wrap your arms around Dave from behind. He eases John down into the water but then turns to kiss you again. You grip the hem of his t-shirt and pull it up over his head. John splashes upright and takes a closer look at Dave’s binder.

“So does that get left on or-“

“Ima go with yes for the day. Anyway, I think it’s your turn.”

“Oh, right!” He laughs nervously and grabs his waistband. He bites his lower lip.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“I’m fine! Absolutely, completely-“

“John,” Both you and Dave say sternly at the same moment.

He swallows. “I’m a little nervous.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you say.

“You mean it?” His eyes sparkle, but that doesn’t reach his mouth. He wants to be happy, but he’s so worried.

“Yeah.” You reel your bulge back in with great effort and close yourself off. And now there’s that smile. He’s so fucking beautiful…

Dave grabs his shirt and pulls it back over his head. “So, uh… You wanna go play video games?”

“Sure!” He scrambles back on shore and calls back his god tier clothes, and you drag yourself up after them and collect your own clothing.

“Maybe next time…” John says softly.

“Don’t force it, man,” Dave replies every bit as quiet.

“You don’t have to feel you’re denying us anything,” you add as you pull your pants on.

“…Th-thanks guys.” He lifts a hand to his face.

“Shhhh.” You place your hands on his beautiful face and lower it so you can kiss his forehead.

Normally you are a first-class shoosher, but this makes him cry even more.

“Fuck I- I’m sorry.”

“Are you apologizing to _Karkat_ for crying?”

You reach over and smack Dave upside his stupid head without taking your eyes off of John’s. “You wanna sit and talk?”

“Yeah. That would be nice. Really, really nice.”

So you do. You plop your ass down right then and there. It doesn’t matter that you’re shirtless and dripping wet. Dave slides down next to you and then finally John lowers himself to the ground.

“I do wanna do all the couple stuff with you guys,” he says. Instead of looking you in the eye, he takes particular interest in a single small rock. “I care about you even more than I do the others, which is really saying a lot. But ever since you guys showed interest it’s been different.”

“Good different or bad different?” Dave asks.

“I think good? Like I started being able to picture us doing more and more couple things. Like, I wanna wake up in a big bed with you every morning and fight over who gets the bathroom first and cook food and eat food and then watch movies or whatever until we all get back into bed to sleep. And I liked it. A lot. And kissing’s nice, it feels good, but once I started feeling like we were gonna fuck I just.” He takes a deep breath. “I froze.”

“But do you want to?” Dave asks. “Not now, duh, but I mean in general.”

“I think? I at least want to try.”

“How do you usually… uh… take care of yourself?” You ask.

He shrugs and rubs his nose. “I just kinda do it. Like now and then my dick’s just like ‘Hey, John, I know you’ve got stuff to do, but hi!’ and I can get it to chill for a while, but it tends to get more insistent until I finally rub one out, and then I’m good for a while.”

“What do you usually think about?” Asks Dave.

“Not much, really. I mean, it feels good, but usually I read or something with the other hand because it’s kind of boring.”

“Huh,” You say.

“Shit, that sounds really weird, doesn’t it?”

“Not really weirder than I’d expect,” Dave answers.

“Maybe next time you start feeling like that you can let us know,” you suggest. “Maybe that’ll be easier.”

“Maybe we can have a literal jerk-off,” Dave says. “Man who can keep rubbing his dick without coming the longest wins.”

“That’s not fair!” John protests.

“Well, if he means his actual bulge, it might be fair. I can get him finished in less than five minutes and he makes the most uncool screeching that has ever graced my hearing tubules.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Haha, that I _have_ to hear!”

“Fuck you both!”

“That’s the plan,” You say.  You shoot a smile at John. “You know, eventually.”

Aw fuck, you made him cry again.

Well, you’re pretty damn sure that’s a good thing this time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EXTRA WARNING FOR CISSEXISM AND THE T-SLUR 
> 
> Also AO3 ate my formatting it looks like. So I'm sorry the pesterlogs aren't colored

Your name is David Elizabeth Strider. It wasn’t always. Actually, you’re pretty sure that legally it would probably still be Elizabeth David, but whatever. It’s not like you had a birth certificate anyway. And besides, you were never _really_ an Elizabeth anyways.

For the first few years of your life, you were Liz. And honestly you kinda liked that name. Words with Z in them are inherently cool when you’re little, and your bro gave you that name so it had to be pretty sweet. Anything having to do with your bro was instantly cool. He gave you some awesome shades, taught you how to use a sword, and his careful sage wisdom had made it so no other toddlers stood chances in rap battles or gymnastics when you were involved. The others at the park made no challenge to your absolute flawless amazingness and you unquestionably ruled the playground until the six-year-olds showed up. You kept you hair short so it wouldn’t get in the way, and wore jeans and t-shirts because they were comfortable and you could get cool things like hearts and records on the latter. Those were the good days when were pretty damn content with your life. Grown-ups would whisper to each other, questioning if you were a boy or a girl, but what did you care? You had shit to fuck up, and grown-ups didn’t understand things anyway. That’s why you had a bro and not a dad. Obviously.

Then kindergarten happened. Kindergarten happened and those other grown-ups started having power and you started having to listen. Apparently you were supposed to wear dresses and play with dolls and talk about boys more than you played with them. You thought it was dumb, and so did most of the other kids, but the teacher kept pressuring you and to make it worse she was always calling you Lizzie no matter how often you corrected her and telling you how cute you were and saying to play with the other girls so you didn’t get dirty or smelly.

“How come?” You asked one day.

“Because you’re a girl,” was her simple reply.

“Well, then,” you said, “I don’t wanna be a girl anymore.” 

And then she laughed. “Oh, Lizzie it’s not a choice.”

“Then what makes me a girl? What makes me so different from my friends?”

She laughed again. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ll understand when you’re older. Now run along and go play.”

She motioned over to the jungle gym, but your friends were over at the sandbox, so forget her.

But the question haunted you for the rest of the day. You tried to ask the other kids, but the only answer you got was something about going to the bathroom different? But why would that matter?

So you just asked your bro.

“Society,” he says.

“huh?”

“Someone a long long time ago that if you had a couple arbitrary characteristics you had to have all these other characteristics too.”

“That’s so dumb!”

“Isn’t it, though?”

“Does that mean I don’t have to be a girl anymore if I don’t want to?”

He turned his whole head towards you, his face expressionless. “You don’t. It’s more important that you’re yourself, because in my humble opinion you are pretty darn rad, kiddo, and it would be massively unjust to deprive the world of that. And there’s nothing wrong with being a girl who likes rougher things. You don’t have to go all the way to the other side.”

“I don’t care, I wanna be a boy.”

“Maybe give it a little time. If you go that way it’s not gonna be easy, and you’ve got time to figure out who exactly you are. When you do figure it out, though, I’m going to be there for you.”

“Okay…” Something about that just made your heart sink.

“Do you have any other questions?”

“Yeah, what does arba-tary mean?”

Bro taught you not to show your feelings, so you tried to keep that disappointment to yourself, but after that you always had that little seed of doubt deep in your heart. And the more and more your teacher and the other kids called you a “she” the more and more it started to hurt. They weren’t looking at you, not really. They were seeing what they wanted to see and not the person you wanted to become.

You decided you’d wait the rest of the year, and then you’d talk to Bro, and then he’d help you, just like he’d promised. The last day of school you stopped him as soon as you left the parking lot.

“What’s up?”

“I’m a boy.”

“Not want to anymore,” he noted.

“No, not want to. I am.”

“Hmm,” He turned away from you and looked up at the clear blue sky. “Remember, kiddo, it’s not gonna be easy.”

“Well, if I get to be a boy, boys are tough, so I get to be tough!”

He actually smiled at that, though he didn’t turn back to look you in the eye, “That’s right lil man.”

And then you started being Dave. Bro pulled you out of that school and put you into a new one where no one knew you. He made it clear before you started to not tell anyone your secret, and it probably helped keep the bullies at least at bay, but it began well over a decade of complete insecurity.

As you got older it got harder and harder to keep friends. When you were little your red eyes and white hair were cool, and people thought you were fun. But then once you were ten people started thinking you were weird. The people who hung out with you were alright sometimes, but they kept making fun of girls, calling them stupid and you couldn’t help but wonder if they’d think you were stupid too if you still called yourself Liz. More time passed and it got worse. When they started using words like ‘tranny’ and ‘faggot’ you refused to take any more of it.

That was when you met John and for the first time in a long _long_ time someone was nice to you. Maybe he wasn’t as nice as he could have been, he knew you were a dork and said so a lot, but he was kind of affectionate about it. You didn’t really care. You were _starving_ for attention. And then you met Rose and Jade, and they were pretty cool too (especially Rose. You just felt like she understood you in a way Jade and John didn’t, though it wasn’t until the game started you learned why), but you didn’t feel quite the same way about them. They just never had the pull that John did, and you never craved their validation as much as you did his. To this day you’re still not sure if it was love or the stirrings of puberty or if you just really wanted the approval of a cis guy to prove you passed some arbitrary boy exam.

You still remember the day you told him perfectly clearly, even more clearly than all of that stuff with bro when you were little. School had been a bit… rougher than usual. The bullies teased you without getting caught, you’d done poorly on a math test, the bus was late and you had to wait in the rain, you tore your shirt, _and_ to top that all off you were on your period and your boobs were starting to grow in too big and too fast and you couldn’t get out of this body that felt like a hand-tailored suit for someone with dimensions far different from your own.

You just barely made it into your room and locked the door before you started crying. As quickly as you could you shut the blinds. No one probably cared about the little boy crying alone in his room, especially since the torrential downpour outside would have made you impossible to see, but no one was allowed to see you. You really hoped your bro couldn’t hear you, but you knew deep down he always knew when you were sad. Luckily he understood well enough to pretend he didn’t notice and he “just so happened” to grab some extra apple juice and triple chocolate ice cream when he was at the store.

Admittedly, removing your sodden clothes helped your mood a little bit, especially since afterwards you but on some of your bro’s clothes that had ended up in your room by mistake. They were massive and warm and formless and smelled like safety. You’d just curled up in your bed to begin the long arduous process of crying it all out when your computer pinged softly.  

 

gt: hi dave!

 

You wiped your eyes and took a deep breath. It was impossible to stop your tears from flowing, but John didn’t have to know that. You were behind a keyboard, he didn’t have to know _anything_.

 

tg: hey

gt: i just got out of school. ugh, what a shitty day!

tg: you too huh

gt: yeah! i swear there are so many more assholes in junior high.

tg: tell me about it

gt: especially in gym class.

tg: agreed

gt: everyone makes fun of me, calls me a shrimp and a dork because they hit puberty freakishly early. i'd better hit my next growth spurt soon, but i'm not really sure how much that’ll help. boy do locker rooms suck.

tg: you have no idea

gt: what? are they teasing you for being fat when you're a total fucking ninja or something?

tg: no its not that

tg: its

 

Your hands still on your keyboard, heart racing, eyes still stinging from the tears. One more rejection today might fucking break you, but if you can't tell him who you are what kind of friend would you be?

 

tg: can you keep a secret

gt: sure thing! i'm your best friend, dave.

gt: if you can't trust me who can you trust?

tg: Okay, this is really serious. See how serious it is? I'm typing properly.

gt: Alright, capitols on! I am ready for any bombshell you are preparing to drop!

 

One more deep breath. Here goes everything…

 

tg: I'm trans.

gt: ?

gt: Dave, what does that mean, exactly?

tg: shit ive never had to explain this to anyone before

gt: capitols back off?

tg: this is still serious

tg: like serious as a clown who completely reversed the idea of his job description its just that old habits die hard and if im gonna have to write a bunch of shit out were not dealing with that because it slows me down too much when im trying to say important shit

gt: dave, we don't need capitols to be serious. i am totally being serious here. i want to help you or at least offer support or something but i need to know what you’re talking about first.

tg: fine.

tg: basically its like

tg: okay what makes you a boy

gt: that's kind of a weird question.

gt: i guess because i have a penis?

tg: yeah but why does that matter

gt: i

gt: i’ve honestly never really thought about it.

tg: most people dont

tg: gender is really fucking confusing but people like to pretend its not so they dont have to think about it.

tg: like imagine you woke up tomorrow morning with a vagina would you still be you

gt: well i'd be girl me.

tg: but what would the difference be

gt: not that much other than possibly having boobs and stuff i guess?

tg: exactly but theres all this shit boys and girls are supposed to do different and all the ways girls and boys are supposed to be different and its based on bits you dont even show to most people

gt: wow, when you put it like that it does sound really fucked up!

tg: it really is

tg: so like

tg: my problem is that im a boy but they fucked up my order and gave me the wrong bits

gt: so you're really a girl?

tg: no john i just fucking said i was a boy

tg: thats what trans means it means they fucked up on my order by one chromosome

gt: oh.

gt: well, i guess that explains why you hate gym so much, dave!

tg: so does it bother you at all

tg: me being the way i am

gt: no.

 

Your breath stills for a moment. Shit, you thought heart swelling was just a romantic cliché. You've gotta reevaluate your life choices feeling that kind of shit.

 

gt: you're dave, and you're my best friend. and if you say you're a boy i'm going to believe you.

 

And for the first time you really felt like you would be okay.

But now, now you feel way more than okay. Now you’re curled up in bed next to him, his fingers tangled in yours as Karkat sleeps curled up at your side. He’s smiling softly, his eyes still gleaming bright and blue in the relative darkness.

He still hasn’t been an active participant in the fucking, but he’s getting comfortable with the idea of being naked in front of you and Karkat. And you’re getting comfortable being really naked in front of him.

“You’re really beautiful, you know,” he says.

“Hey, even with my tits out I prefer handsome.”

“Okay. I don’t know how much I like that word, though. Because handsome is like all neat and contained and tied up. You’re like a force of nature.”

“Like a god?” you ask, half-smiling.

“Something like that. Both of you are, really.”

“That actually means a lot coming from you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“One, you’re fucking hot. Two, you’re the only one who’s deficiency we can’t see right now.”

“Hmm?”

“Well, we got the alien mutant,” you run your fingers across one of Karkat’s wings, not as bright red anymore since he’s not showing them off anymore, “the tranny,” John’s nose scrunches at the word, “And finally the sex bomb who just doesn’t feel the inclination to fuck.”

“Wow, when you put it like that it does sound kind of fucked up.”

“Doesn’t it thought?”

“But we’re more than that. We’re not broken, Dave. We’re special. And that’s why we’re here, why we’re alive in this new world instead of anyone else sitting here.”

“I suppose,” you say, turning away

“Hey,” He grabs your chin, and with those stupid big hands of his he carefully pulls you into a kiss, slow and sweet, so like that first one you shared on his porch months ago.

“Even if we are broken,” he says as he pulls away, “We’re broken together. It doesn’t all have to be black and white. It- there can be shades of gray. And those shades can move, they can change. Look at me.”

“I am.”

“I meant, like, for example. I used to be full on aromantic, but now I’m obviously somewhere in the middle because I’m dating you and Karkat. And maybe the ace thing is changing too? I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to tell if it’s that or if I’m just getting more used to the idea of having sex with you guys. We’ll figure it out. And it’s only tricky and confusing to start with because our old society stuck words on to people based on who they felt like sleeping with. You’re only trans because at some point they decided that gender went with genitals and chromosomes. Heck, even Karkat’s only considered a mutant because he was one of two in known history to bleed red.

“But this is our world. We get to make society however the fuck we want. Karkat’s a significant percentage of living trolls at this point, but even if red blood is still rare later on we can make it so trolls put less stock in blood color here than they did on Alternia. And we can definitely make it so people aren’t so hard set about boys with dicks having to marry and have sex with girls with vaginas. Maybe we can even let humans choose gender like trolls do, even though I don’t think they’ll be able to change their anatomy the same way.”

“Okay,” you say softly, unsure of what else to say.

John runs his thumb across your cheek. “If we thought we were broken it’s because we didn’t fit in society. And we’re making this society fit us. And we’re going to be okay.”

You smile. Letting go of the last of your inhibitions, you decide to believe. You believe in John and his stupid quasi-messiah tendencies and his fucked up slidey grayscale philosophy.

Your name is David Elizabeth Strider, now and forever, and you are going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's done. I'm really not entirely happy with this chapter, but I've been sitting on it for long enough. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this story! 
> 
> I might or might not be continuing this AU. If I do it'll be in another fic, and I'm not sure if I want to go forward and deal with more on settling the planet or go back and work on bits of Dave's past (I have a few little ideas for how various other characters find out he's trans)  
> In the meantime, I do have another project going on that should still be updating regularly. It's an askblog linked on my profile.


End file.
